


Little Toy Soldiers With Little Toy Guns

by myglassesaredirty



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming
Genre: A LOT of Angst, Angst, Dad!Tony, Gen, Minor Character Death, Parent Tony Stark, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Has A Heart, a prompt i found on tumblr, because it just happened, i might continue this later, there'sa crap ton of angst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-30
Updated: 2017-09-30
Packaged: 2019-01-07 07:29:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12228351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myglassesaredirty/pseuds/myglassesaredirty
Summary: "You keep on playing pretend because you think if you pretend long enough, it'll make the lie a truth."





	Little Toy Soldiers With Little Toy Guns

**Author's Note:**

> I found this prompt on Tumblr and I couldn't resist writing this. Kudos to you who posted it. Set after IW.

Life has been weird lately.

School is silent as he wanders the halls, classes are empty as he measures chemicals in the beaker, and lunch feels wrong as he eats his food.

His labs are perfect, his math grades are higher than they’ve ever been, he’s mastered every English assignment, and he finally understands history.

But something’s missing even as he goes about his daily life.

The bell rings, and he packs up, shoving his chemistry book into his backpack. He runs through assignments he needs to get done before tomorrow: 1) questions for chem class – check; 2) read through chapter 23 in To Kill a Mockingbird – check; 3) the entirety of lesson 57 in calculus – check; 4) test tomorrow over World War I –check.

He makes his way to his locker, trading his chemistry notebook for his calculus textbook. His backpack is heavy, but he ignores that, slinging it on his shoulder.

It’s only 2:37, and he has nothing to do today. He reaches into his pocket and texts Mr. Stark, asking if he can swing by the compound today.

Mr. Stark responds almost immediately, saying instead that he’ll just head to Peter’s apartment if that’s okay.

So it’s set.

Peter directs his steps back towards his apartment, sticking his hand in his pocket to check and see if his key is still there.

It is.

It takes a lot longer to walk than it does to take the sub, but he doesn’t mind the trip. It’s a sunny day in November, and the air is cool, leaves litter the ground, and it smells like Thanksgiving.

Sometimes he misses it.

Tony’s waiting outside his apartment when he gets there, and he waves.

“Hi, Mr. Stark,” Peter says as he sticks the key into the lock. “How’re you doing?”

Mr. Stark shrugs, standing by while Peter shoves the door open with his shoulder. “Okay, I guess. As well as can be expected.” Peter steps inside, and Tony follows. His voice is gentle when he says, “What about you, bud?”

Peter lifts one shoulder in a shrug, taking off his backpack and tossing it on a chair. “Good, for the most part. School’s kicking my butt, though.”

Tony frowns a bit. “School, huh?” Peter offers him an apple, and he takes it, biting into it. “How so?”

Peter opens the fridge, sticking his head inside. “Just a lot of homework. You want anything to drink?”

“Just a water, please,” Tony calls as he sits on the couch. “What about your friends? How are they?”

“Oh, MJ’s still just MJ. Scary as usual.” Peter walks into the living room with a glass of water in one hand and a glass of milk in the other. “I haven’t talked to Ned in a while, though. I don’t know how he’s doing.”

Tony takes the glass of water and nods slightly. “Look, Peter –”

“You wanna watch a movie, Mr. Stark?”

Tony furrows his eyebrows, and his mouth is set in a firm line. Peter presses his lips together.

“No.” Tony sighs and sets his drink on the coffee table. “Look, Peter, I just want to know: how are you really doing?”

Peter deflates and looks away from Tony. “I’m alright, Mr. Stark. Really, I’m fine.”

“Kid, schools in New York City have been shut down for months. Why –” Tony sighs again and runs his hand through his hair. “Why are you still going?”

“I just want to get the most out of my education –”

“Don’t even start with that!” His voice is firm, and Peter shrinks against his seat. “You’re the smartest kid I’ve ever met; you don’t need an education right at this moment in time.”

“Well –”

“And furthermore, you’ve always hated school! You’ve hated how teachers taught, you’ve hated the curriculum, and you’ve hated the food that goes through the cafeteria every day!”

“Mr. Stark,” Peter pleads, “please, I don’t want to talk about it.”

Tony licks his lips. “Kid, if you don’t stop, I’m going to have to take you to see someone.” When Peter continues to avoid his gaze, he says, “What have you been eating lately, Peter? Who have you been talking to?”

“Mr. Stark.” Peter’s voice is quiet and he looks like he’s about to cry.

“Peter.” Tony’s voice is just as quiet. “Peter, please, just answer me.”

Peter sniffles and wipes his nose with his sleeve. “Sandwiches and mac-‘n-cheese, mostly. Sometimes ramen. I don’t have a lot of money, or else I’d be ordering healthier stuff.”

“I could’ve helped you with that,” Tony says, massaging his right shoulder.

“I just…I wanted to ignore it. Wanted to pretend that things would go back to normal. Like,” he wipes his cheeks quickly, barely managing to catch the tears that had begun to fall, “one day, I’d wake up and they’d be alive again.”

Tony’s heart squeezes in his chest, and he stands and walks over to Peter. Kneeling before him, he says, “I get it, son. Trust me, I do. But you can’t keep on doing this.”

Peter shakes his head. In this moment, he looks like a child, and it breaks Tony’s heart to see it. “What happens if I stop?”

Tony sighs and puts a hand on Peter’s shoulder. “You keep on playing pretend because you think if you pretend long enough, it’ll make the lie a truth.” He sniffles and looks away briefly. “But that’s not gonna bring them back. All the hoping and all the pretending in the world will not bring either May or Ned back. And that sucks, and it makes life hell, but that’s the truth, and you need to learn to face it.”

Peter squeezes his eyes shut, and his heart breaks in his chest. Tears squeeze out of the corners of his eyes, and he’s hyperventilating, and Tony’s pulling him towards himself. Peter wraps his arms around Tony’s neck and sobs into his shoulder. “I miss them,” he chokes out, snot running from his nose and onto Tony’s shirt.

Tony rubs circles on Peter’s back. “I know, kid. I know.” He sounds like he’s crying, too.

His shoulders heave, and he’s not calming down, and he remembers all over again that most everyone he’s ever loved is gone: his parents, Ben, May, Ned.

Only Michelle and Tony are left.

A sob tears from his throat, and Tony tightens his grip, gently shushing him in an effort to calm him. It doesn’t help, but really, the only thing that could help is bringing May and Ned back.

The lump in his throat is taking up all the space, and he tries to breathe around it.

It’s not a dream.

He feels one hand leave his back, and he knows Tony’s wiping away tears of his own.

It’s not pretend.

His breaths are shallow and shaky, and he hears Tony whisper brokenly, “Deep breaths, kiddo.” He sniffles and tries to take his advice.

They’re dead.

Another sob, and Tony reaches up to cradle his head. “I’m here, son, I’m here.”

They’re not coming back.

He thinks his words are incoherent, but somehow Tony understands his plea of “don’t leave me alone.”

Tony’s voice is stronger, less broken somehow. “I’m here, son.”

He doesn’t know how long he cries, and he doesn’t really care.

Life has fallen apart for him, and no one can put it back together except maybe God Himself. And he knows that with time, the grief will dissipate; it won’t ever disappear – losing his parents at such a young age has proven that – but he knows that he’ll adjust. It’ll take time, and until he does, life will be a literal hell, but it’ll come eventually.

And when it does, he will destroy anyone who comes between him and his loved ones, Instant Kill Mode and all.

**Author's Note:**

> I love both May and Ned, but I wondered what would happen in this scenario.


End file.
